


Double Vision

by defenselesswriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Stiles/Dwight, Hunters, I made one, M/M, alpha!Derek, and i'm not sure why this story revolves around food, be proud, but it does, pack mom!stiles, sterek, there actually is a plot, there will be hunters eventually, there's also a lot of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defenselesswriter/pseuds/defenselesswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles sinks down onto the steps, putting his head in his hands and staring down at the wood. “My head hurts. I think I was mad at you, but I can’t remember why. A twin. You have a twin brother. Wow.”</p>
<p>Basically, I just really wanted a twin fic. And I blame <a href="http://bilesandthesourwolf.tumblr.com/post/63562571925/ianthebooboo-sterek-au-in-which-the-hale">this</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The entire pack is alive because I refuse to be okay with Erica and Boyd dying okay? Cora died in the fire so Derek is still alpha. Scott isn't a true alpha and this is 3 years in the future. Woo. I think that covers it?
> 
> Oh, come be my friend on [tumblr](http://dude-its-bcn-hlls.tumblr.com) where I post a bunch of Teen Wolf shit, take prompts, and post updates on my unfinished stories that are on here!

It started out with a voicemail. The worst voicemail Derek has heard in his life.

“Hey, loser. I’ve been driving through California and decided to stop by. Be there in the next day or two.”

Worst. Voicemail. Ever.

Derek has just finally established his pack. He may still have tenuous ties with Scott, but the young man (just barely not a teenager anymore at the age of twenty) is a part of the pack and obviously wherever Scott is, Stiles is the one pushing him through the door.

And not only is Stiles the one pushing Scott through the door, but he pushes himself through it almost every day. There isn’t a day that goes by that Stiles isn’t storming into Derek’s house, asking questions or demanding food while he researches whatever supernatural creature they have that week. Stiles is always there. It’s gotten to the point where the other wolves are asking Derek if they’re fucking without telling anyone because the entire place smells like _Stiles_.

And it’s pissing Derek the fuck off. He doesn’t need his brother coming along and fucking everything up when everything is actually working out. Derek is being a half decent alpha finally and the pack is working together. They’re working together _well_. And Dwight is going to come and fuck shit up.

Worst voicemail ever.

 

***

 

“You didn’t fucking call me,” Stiles shouts as he jumps out of his jeep to glare at Derek who is just sitting on the porch with a small smirk on his face. What the fuck is wrong with him? And why does he look different? Stiles can’t place it, but he looks different. “There was a pack meeting last night and you didn’t fucking tell me. Is it because I’m _human_ , Derek? I thought we got over this. I mean you never said it, but I thought I was a part of the pack.”

And Derek just stares at him, looking slightly confused but his eyes just roam over Stiles’ body. They fucking roam and what the fuck?

“You like what you see?” Stiles asks, letting the sarcasm just drip through his voice. “Now fuck you.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Derek says with a laugh and what? Derek laughs? “But I think you’re looking for someone else. Derek!”

Stiles is confused as fuck at this moment as Derek’s duplicate walks out the door and onto the porch. “What.”

“Derek, you didn’t tell me you had yourself a boyfriend?” the Derek sitting in the chair says, looking at the scowling Derek and that’s the Derek Stiles knows.

“A boyfriend?” Stiles squeaks, looking between the two Dereks and what the actual fuck over here. “Wait. Derek?” He points at the scowling one, who nods. “Did you get attacked by a witch again? I mean the last time it was hilarious, but this isn’t funny. I don’t like this. I feel like I’m seeing doubles of everything.”

“He’s cute, Derek,” the fake Derek (and yes he is the fake Derek because Stiles knows his Derek – er the _real_ Derek) says with another look down Stiles’ body. “And he knows about werewolves. I’m proud of you for telling him. That’s a step in the right direction with your trust issues.”

Real Derek directs his glare to the fake Derek and sighs. “Dwight, go inside please.”

“Dwight?” Stiles asks, trying to see through the confused haze. “You named your fake self?”

“Fake self? Stiles – what?” Derek asks and then sighs.

“Oh, you didn’t tell him about me. Maybe your relationship isn’t as good as I thought.” Dwight stands up and walks towards the door. “Well, Stiles, if you ever get sick of my brother, you know where to find me.”

Stiles watches him walk into the house then looks at Derek. “Brother? He’s your brother?”

Derek nods.

“A twin brother.”

Derek nods once more.

“That you didn’t tell anyone about.”

Shakes head.

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles sinks down onto the steps, putting his head in his hands and staring down at the wood. “My head hurts. I think I was mad at you, but I can’t remember why. A twin. You have a twin brother. Wow.”

“I was hoping he’d be gone before anyone showed up here,” Derek tells him softly.

“Wait. Is he a werewolf? Can he hear us?” Stiles looks back at the house, preparing himself to get up so Dwight won’t overhear.

Derek shakes his head. “The gene skipped him.”

Stiles stares back down at the steps with a deep breath. “He thinks we’re dating. I didn’t even think you were into guys.”

Derek takes a moment to answer. “It’s more about who it is than their gender. Dwight just likes to cause problems. He also just likes to assume things that aren’t happening.”

Stiles takes another deep breath, trying to sort everything out in his brain because Derek has a twin. There are two people that look like Derek. Stiles was having enough trouble masking his attraction to just one Derek now _two?_ Fuck this. “Why didn’t you tell anyone about Dwight?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. “He just causes problems. I don’t talk to him often.”

“He’s the last of your family that isn’t fucking insane, and you don’t talk to him?” Stiles says, confused. If Stiles had a brother, he’d be all over that being bros shit. He always wanted a brother, and he did kind of luck out with Scott, but a real brother? A twin brother at that? Stiles and his twin would fuck shit up. It would be great.

“It doesn’t matter, Stiles,” Derek snaps, bringing Stiles back to the situation at hand. “What did you want?”

Stiles glares at him and huffs. “Why wasn’t I invited to the pack meeting last night?”

Derek frowns. “I thought you just didn’t come because you didn’t want to.”

“I didn’t come because no one told me about it. _You_ didn’t tell me about it.” Stiles takes out his phone and waves it around. “I guess you missed one on the group text.”

Derek sighs and nods. “Yeah, I forgot you initially but I figured someone would have told you about it. Sorry I put too much faith in the communication skills of my pack.”

Stiles is still glaring though because he is still mad that Derek forgot him. “Am I part of the pack?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Derek. Am I part of the pack?”

Derek rolls his eyes at the younger man. “Stiles, that’s a stupid question.”

And that’s all the answer Stiles needs as he nods his head, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Got it, Derek. See you around.” He walks back to his jeep and gets in, driving away from the Hale property.

 

***

“Way to fuck that up,” Dwight says as Derek walks back into the house.

“Me? That was all you,” Derek practically growls.

Dwight’s eyes roll. “Keep in the wolf, buddy. You just basically turned him away.”

Derek frowns, looking back at the door even though he knows Stiles is long gone. “What do you mean? No, I didn’t. He’ll be here next pack meeting and everything will be fine. I’ll give him a Reese’s or something to make it up to him.”

“You just told him he isn’t in the pack,” Dwight tells him with a smirk, and Derek fucking hates that smirk so much.

“I told him he was in the pack,” Derek says, confused and then glares at his brother. “You know what? I don’t have to talk about this with you. You’re no longer in the pack. You don’t get to hear about pack business.”

“Oh, ouch,” Dwight calls out sarcastically as Derek walks away. “Shot to the heart, Der. That hurt real bad.”

Derek really hates that his brother is back in town.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have another chapter.

Derek really hates that his brother is right. And that his brother is still here. And that Stiles isn’t here.

“What did you do to Stiles?” Erica demands when Derek tries to start the pack meeting.

“I didn’t do anything,” he argues, his jaw tense because he never said anything. He told Stiles that he is pack and now Stiles isn’t here even though Derek definitely remembered to include him in the group text. Usually he is the first one to show up, but now everyone is here except Stiles.

“He is moping,” Erica tells him. “It’s sad.”

“Mostly pathetic,” Lydia adds with a scrunch of her nose.

“Why did you tell him he isn’t part of the pack?” Scott asks, looking like an angry puppy as he defends his best friend’s honor.

In the background, Dwight snorts and all eyes turn to look at him as he walks through the front door. Everyone stops, turns back to Derek then to Dwight and back again.

“There are two Dereks,” Scott says slowly, confused. “Another witch?”

Lydia shakes her head. “There haven’t been any signs of witches for almost a year. I’ve been keeping an eye on that.”

“But there are two of him,” Isaac says, his eyes blown wide.

“Do you tell them anything, Derek?” Dwight asks with a smirk as he sits down on the couch next to Lydia, who glares at him. “Hi, I’m Derek’s big brother, Dwight.”

“I don’t trust him,” Lydia announces, looking back at Derek. “And why didn’t you tell us, Derek?”

“He was supposed to stay out of the house for pack meetings,” Derek growls, glaring at his brother. “You’re not in this pack, Dwight. _Leave_.”

Dwight raises his hands and stands up. “Fine. I’ll be upstairs if anyone needs me.”

They all wait until he’s upstairs then everyone starts talking at once.

“He’s creepy.”

“Reminds me a little of Peter.”

“He doesn’t smell like a werewolf.”

“He isn’t a werewolf?”

“He’s kind of a douchebag.”

“You’re one to talk, Jackson.”

“Everyone shut up!” Derek finally shouts, flashing his red eyes to make sure everyone listens. “Yes, that’s my brother. No, he isn’t a werewolf. Yes, we’re twins. No, I didn’t tell you about him because you didn’t need to know. Anything else or can we continue with the pack meeting?”

“Why isn’t Stiles here?” Erica asks.

Derek takes a deep breath, pressing his fingers to his temple because this way more stressful than it needs to be. There isn’t even a Monster of the Week as Stiles likes to call it. For once, Beacon Hills is calm.

“Derek told him he isn’t pack,” Scott answers with a glare to his alpha. Derek glares back.

“I told him he was pack,” Derek argues.

Lydia sighs and stops Scott from his inevitable comeback. “What exactly did you say, Derek?”

He shrugs. “He asked if he was pack and I told him that was a stupid question because he is obviously pack.”

This time Erica sighs, leaning into Boyd slightly as she rolls her eyes at Derek. “But did you say the last part to him?”

“No, it was implied,” Derek says.

“You’re an idiot.”

“They’re both idiots,” Lydia adds to Erica’s sentiment.

“They deserve each other,” Erica says.

“Wait, no! Not yet. I can’t lose the bet.” Isaac looks slightly panicked at Derek. “Can you wait like one more year?”

“Bet?” Derek questions. “What bet?”

For the first time ever, the entire pack is silent as everyone avoids his eye. Lydia looks down at her nails. Erica is brushing nonexistent dirt off of her outfit, and Boyd is looking down like always. Scott is glaring over at Isaac, and Isaac is looking down, guilty. And Jackson looks like he is bored as fuck.

“They made bets on how long it would take for you and Stiles to finally fuck,” Jackson answers in a monotone voice. Lydia smacks his chest.

“All bets will end now,” Derek growls. “And so will the pack meeting. _Out_.”

“But tonight is pack movie night!” Scott whines.

“And Stiles usually brings the movies,” Isaac adds.

“And makes the food,” Erica interjects.

“So what you are all saying is we can’t having pack movie night without Stiles,” Derek says slowly.

They all nod their agreement.

“Then get out of my house,” he half growls at them. They all stand up and file out of the house, grumbling about how unfair Derek is and how they wish Stiles was here so he could set Derek straight since he is the only one that stands up to the alpha.

Derek doesn’t dare mumble his agreement with them despite how much he wants to.

 

***

 

“Dude, it was horrible without you,” Scott says on a whine.

Stiles gives him a look while pointing at him. “No whining,” he chastises. “And why was it horrible? What do I bring to the pack? I’m human.”

“And you stand up to Derek,” Scott adds in, flopping down on Stiles’ bed. Stiles, Scott, and Isaac share an apartment in town, closer to Beacon Hills University where Stiles attends. Isaac and Scott are taking a break while they just work at Deaton’s instead of going to school. They keep asking why Stiles is still in school.

“That and you make wonderful food,” Scott says as he scarfs down the brownies Stiles made because he always bakes when he’s upset.

“Well, I’m not a part of the pack,” Stiles says, and yeah, that stings a lot. After saving all of their asses multiple times, Derek’s the most of all, he still isn’t considered pack. Well, fuck him.

There’s a ding from the kitchen, so Stiles gets up from his desk chair to go get the cake out of the oven.

“Stiles,” Scott says, following his best friend out of the room.

“Whining,” Stiles chides.

Scott sighs and jumps up on the counter as Stiles takes the cake out of the oven to let it cool. “Oooh what kind?”

Stiles slaps the werewolf’s hand as it inches towards the icing. “Red velvet with cream cheese frosting.”

“Can I try?” Scott practically begs, drool almost spilling from his mouth.

“When it’s done,” Stiles mumbles. “Were you trying to make a point with your whining or are you just going to drool over my cake?”

“Isn’t this Derek’s favorite kind?” Scott asks, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. Seriously. Why did Stiles choose a best friend that so easily resembles a puppy?

Stiles just shrugs and asks, “Is it?” even though he knows that this is Derek’s favorite dessert. Derek even told him once that he makes it as good as his mom used to.

“Anyway, he says you’re pack, dude,” Scott tells him honestly because Stiles’ best friend doesn’t lie. Maybe that’s why they’re such good friends. “He thought it was obvious and you know how stupid Derek is with words.”

Stiles thinks about it and nods. “But I’m still not coming around until he tells me himself.”

“Stop being such a kid about this,” Scott tells him, being the one to chastise this time.

Stiles’ eyes narrow at his best friend as he crosses his arms across his chest. “I’m not being a kid. If Derek wants me in his pack, then he can drag his ass over here and tell me as such. Then maybe he can have the cake.”

Scott sighs, hanging his head down as he jumps down from the counter. “Someone’s coming,” he mumbles as he goes to answer the door.

Once his back is turned, Stiles reaches over to try the frosting, licking it off of his finger when he looks up at the door to see Derek. He frowns and the man smirks at him. “Dwight,” Stiles greets, wiping his finger on his pants as he studies the second version of Derek.

“You’re one of the only ones that can tell us a part,” the twin answers with a grin as he steps away from Scott’s confused stare. “I guess you really are Derek’s boyfriend.”

Stiles laughs once, shaking his head. “If I’m Derek’s boyfriend then Scott is a girl. Obviously both of those are untrue and impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Dwight answers. “Scott could get surgery if he wanted.”

Stiles shrugs, and Scotts’ forehead wrinkles even more in confusion. “Me and Derek dating? That’s still impossible.”

Dwight just shrugs and walks into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “Red velvet cake?” he asks, pointing to the red cake sitting on the counter.

Stiles nods, watching Dwight closely unable to trust him. He looks exactly like Derek but acts so differently. Stiles doesn’t understand quite yet.

“That’s my favorite,” he says without waiting for Stiles to answer which is good because now he is dipping his finger into the frosting and sucking on his finger and _shit_. That shouldn’t be hot, but it is. “Mmm…this frosting is amazing. Is it homemade?”

With a swallow, Stiles nods slowly as he tries to control his breathing. Then he reaches over for the bowl to pull it away from Dwight because the man started reaching for it again, and Stiles can’t guarantee his penis can stay out of this interaction if he licks his finger again. “Yeah, um, I like to bake sometimes,” he finally says somewhat intelligently.

Dwight’s eyebrow cocks up as his smirk deepens. “Yeah? Maybe I should stick around to see you in an apron.”

Stiles starts coughing uncontrollably because he choked on his own spit. _Smooth, Stilinski. Smooth_.

Dwight just takes a step closer, patting his back once before looking him in the eye and saying, “I’d bet you would look hot in an apron.”

“The fuck?” Stiles gasps out. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised at that,” Dwight responds with a sly smile, taking a step back as his eyes run down Stiles’ body again and _why does he keep doing that_?

“It’s just really hard to hear flirting from someone who looks and sounds exactly like Derek,” Stiles says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Wow. This is different.”

“So you weren’t at the pack meeting today,” Dwight says instead, changing the subject.

Stiles shrugs. “Wasn’t feeling up to it.”

“You were baking.” The older man looks pointedly at the cake. “Seems much more important.”

“It is,” Stiles says defensively, drumming his nails along the stainless steel bowl that is holding the frosting. “I’m not exactly pack, am I? Humans aren’t considered pack. You aren’t.”

Dwight laughs once bitterly. “I’m not considered pack by my own accord, not because of my species.”

“So Derek just hates me?” Stiles asks, which kind of makes it worse. He could maybe understand that humans aren’t allowed in the pack (Lydia doesn’t count. They’re pretty sure she’s part witch), but thinking that Derek doesn’t want him in the pack because he doesn’t like him? Stiles hasn’t baked cookies yet. He should do that.

“I don’t know why.” Dwight steps closer again and reaching up to Stiles’ face, brushing across his cheek. “Sorry. You had some flour right there.”

Stiles nods once even though he knows he didn’t have flour there. Scott already pointed it out, but then Dwight is turning around and walking towards the door. “Leaving so soon?”

Dwight looks back with a smile. “Just came to check on you. Trust me, this isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”

 

***

 

“Careful, Derek,” Peter calls out from the couch. “You just did those floors. You don’t want to wear a path in them from your incessant pacing.”

Derek shoots a glare at his uncle, who just shrugs and pops a handful of M&Ms into his mouth.

“I don’t know, Uncle P, this is really entertaining,” Dwight adds in as he shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth. The two look at each other, offering the other their snacks before returning their attention back to Derek.

“Don’t either of you have better places to be?” Derek asks, trying to keep his temper under control, but the two of the three people who love to rile him up are currently sitting on his couch. They’re just missing Stiles.

“Nope,” Dwight says at the same time Peter answers, “Not really.”

Derek is going to kill both of them, and it will be his second time killing Peter. Dwight wasn’t exactly thrilled with him when he found out that Derek killed his favorite uncle. Maybe Dwight should have seen how Peter was acting. Maybe then he wouldn’t be hating on Derek so much then.

“What is he brooding about this time?” Peter asks, seemingly bored, but his attention is solely on Derek’s _incessant pacing_.

“I’ll give you one guess,” Dwight says around his mouthful.

“Stiles?”

“Stiles.”

“What did he do to the poor boy this time?”

“He’s not a boy,” Dwight answers with a scoff. “That’s for sure.”

Peter’s attention turns to Dwight them same time Derek’s does. “What does that mean?” Derek demands.

“I’m merely pointing out the fact that Stiles is no longer a boy,” Dwight says, raising his hands in surrender. “That I’ve noticed he is past puberty and made it out very well.”

Peter takes a moment to consider while Derek just seethes. “I suppose you’re right,” Peter says, nodding. “He did leave his teenage years gracefully. Wouldn’t you say, Derek?”

Derek can’t decide who to focus his glare on, so he just starts pacing again. “I have nothing to say on that.”

Dwight starts laughing and Derek can hear all the popcorn he is spilling onto his couch that the older twin won’t clean up later. “Oh, little bro, you’re so screwed.”

Derek doesn’t dignify that with a reply; he just huffs as he speeds up his pace ever so slightly.

“What do you suppose he is thinking?” Peter whispers to Dwight even though they all know Derek can hear him loud and clear.

“ _Why would I say such stupid things to Stiles? Stiles, my love, come back to me. How do I tell him I love him? Why am I so incompetent with words? Why is my older, much better looking brother so much better than me in every single way?_ ”

“How long are you staying again, Dwight?” Derek asks, stopping to stare at the two traitors on his couch.

“However long he pleases,” Peter answers for his favorite nephew, patting the man on the shoulder.

Derek takes a deep breath and sighs before grabbing his jacket and keys. “If I can’t find peace in my own home, then I’m leaving.” He starts walking out, but hears one more tidbit of conversation before he leaves.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Dwight asks.

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“Stiles’?”

“Stiles.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of food stuff. I don't know why there's so much food. But food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK I FINALLY POSTED A CHAPTER. OH WOW LOOK AT THAT. IT'S ONLY BEEN 7 MONTHS. I'm so so so sorry. I should have another chapter posted today as an apology.

“Wait,” Stiles says, opening the door with a frown. “It’s like three in the morning and I might be a little drunk. Are you Derek or Dwight?”

The twin in question glares daggers at Stiles until the younger man sighs, opening the door wider. “Please, come in, Derek. Make yourself at home.”

Stiles watches Derek walk in, and his nostrils flare. “Why was Dwight here?” he demands.

Stiles just kind of shrugs, collapsing onto the couch. “I dunno. ‘M sleepy and you’re kinda blurry.” And it’s true. Derek is kind of blurry and really sexy, but Stiles isn’t going to say that one aloud.

“Sexy?” Derek asks, sitting next to Stiles.

“Fuck that wasn’t supposed to be said,” Stiles mumbles, cursing his mouth for all of eternity because Derek isn’t supposed to know that. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Derek rolls his eyes, and the motion makes Stiles slightly nauseous. “You’re drunk.” Then he turns around to go investigate the apartment or whatever it is alpha werewolves do.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Stiles snaps back, slightly annoyed with the fact that Derek is here. Why is he here? “Why are you here?”

“You’re pack,” Derek blurts out, facing Stiles.

“Am I?” Stiles asks, still slightly unsure.

“Yes, so you need to be at all of the pack meetings,” Derek says on a glare. “Apparently we can’t have movie night without you, so you have to go to those too.”

“Mmm bossy,” Stiles slurs out. “I like it.”

Derek stares at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. He really needs to stop doing that because Stiles stomach rolls with it. Then Derek frowns, sniffing the air again. “Did you make cake?”

“Red velvet,” Stiles manages to get out.

“That’s my favorite,” Derek mumbles, looking at the ground.

“I know,” Stiles snaps, making Derek look up at him surprised. The alpha just kind of stares for a really long moment, and Stiles wants to comment on how beautiful his eyes are but doesn’t think he can get the words out. All he can think about is how much he wants to kiss the stupid werewolf’s face. Then Stiles hiccups, breaking the moment.

“I should…” Derek pauses, glancing at the door.

“D’ya wanna take the cake?” Stiles asks, stumbling to the counter and grabbing the plate. Only half is missing because Isaac and Scott got to it the second it was done.

Derek stares at the offered cake and then takes it in his hands. “Thanks. You make it as good – ”

“As your mom did,” Stiles finishes for him. “So you’ve told me. Enjoy, Der.”

The corners of Derek’s mouth tilt up slightly in the closest thing Stiles will ever get to a smile out of him. “Thanks,” he says again before walking out of the apartment.

“Fuck,” Stiles mutters because he just really wants Derek all the time, and he really doesn’t want to want Derek because the alpha doesn’t want him.

 

***

“Cake?” Peter questions when Derek walks through the door.

He just clutches it tighter against his chest, glaring over at his uncle. “Yes, cake. I like cake.”

Dwight just smirks like he knows exactly where that cake came from, and he probably does that sneaky bastard and _wait a second_.

“Why were you at Stiles’ today?” Derek questions Dwight, eyes narrowing slightly.

The twin yawns dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. “I really need to get some sleep. It’s getting late.” He stands up and heads towards the stairs. “Hopefully thoughts of a lanky, pale kid with moles doesn’t keep me up late.”

“You forget his honey-brown eyes,” Peter adds.

Dwight practically moans at that. “Don’t remind me of those eyes. Damn.” Then Dwight disappears upstairs, leaving Derek to just glare at his uncle, who looks smug. When does he not?

“I don’t know why I just haven’t killed you again,” Derek mumbles to himself, stomping off to the kitchen.

“Because you still need me, my dear nephew,” Peter reminds him quietly, and Derek hates that he’s right. Plus, it’s not like Peter has actually done anything to warrant him being killed again. He’s just an annoying little shit.

Derek huffs out a breath and goes up to his room, taking the cake with him. It’s only when he’s upstairs he realizes that he didn’t get a fork for his cake. Whatever. He eats it with his hands; he’s an animal anyway, right?

*

“Why does it smell like Derek by the door?” Isaac asks.

Stiles moans out an answer, but even he doesn’t understand it. His head hurts. Like really really hurts. Everything is moving. Why is Isaac swaying? Does he hate Stiles? “I don’t know. I got really drunk last night and I think he came by? I’m not entirely sure.”

“He was definitely here,” Scott answers, walking into Stiles’ room.

“Hey, we talked about this. I know wolves don’t believe in privacy.”

“We’re in the living room, Stiles,” Isaac informs him, looking down at him with judgey eyes. Ugh. Isaac _does_ hate him.

But then Stiles becomes aware of his surroundings. He may or may not be in his underwear on the couch. He groans at that, which just makes his head hurt even more than it already did. His eyes close, trying to lock out all of the sounds of the apartment, but he can still feel Isaac’s judgey eyes and now Scott is walking around the kitchen.

“Stiles, where’s the rest of the cake?” Scott calls from the kitchen.

“Inside voices, Scotty,” Stiles hisses, shoving a throw pillow over his head. “And I think drunk me gave it to Derek.”

There’s a collective gasp from Stiles’ stupid roommates. They start talking at the same time, but both of them are practically saying the same thing.

“I’ll make a cake later. Fuck you guys. I’m napping. Scotty, help me to my room; everything won’t stop spinning.” And Stiles actually does have the best friend because the werewolf comes to his aid, allowing the human to wrap an arm around his shoulders and drag him back to his bed.

Once he’s comfortable and alone in his room, Stiles starts to piece together last night. Dwight came over. It made Stiles uncomfortably turned on because Derek’s face and voice were flirting with him, but it wasn’t Derek. So Stiles got really drunk because he didn’t want to think about not-Derek flirting with him. He watched Breaking Bad which was a bad idea drunk, so he changed it to Adventure Time.

Then Derek showed up and may have said Stiles is in the pack? Those details are fuzzy. Stiles remembered thinking how sexy Derek is and he likes him bossy, but those were just thoughts…right?

Stiles shoves the blanket over his head and goes back to sleep because he can’t deal with this right now. He just really can’t.

*

“So how long do we have to keep this a secret?” Dwight asks, looking pointedly at Derek while talking to Peter.

“Why are you two always here? Can’t you be _anywhere_ else?” Derek wants to snap at them and growl, but he knows that won’t work at Dwight, just egg him on. Peter will just smirk at him because Peter is an arrogant asshole like that.

“You could leave,” Peter suggests. “And what’s a secret?”

“This is _my_ house,” Derek growls, walking into the kitchen to do something with his hands. The betas are coming for lunch; Derek doesn’t secretly hope Stiles will be there too.

“The fact that Derek loves Stiles,” Dwight answers easily.

Peter snorts at that. “But denial is such a lovely shade on my dearest nephew.”

“Dearest nephew? I thought I was your favorite?” Dwight even sounds slightly offended. Derek hopes he is.

“You are, but Derek deserves a very special place in my heart,” Peter tells him and it sounds just as condescending as Derek can guess his face looks.

Derek tunes them out after that and starts making pizza for the betas when they get there. Two pepperoni, sausage, and bacon pizzas for Stiles and Scott because each of them can put away an entire pizza. One chicken alfredo for Allison and Lydia if they come. Pineapple for Jackson, who really is an abomination if he likes pineapples on his pizza. Two plain cheese for Isaac and himself. And one with veggies for Boyd and Erica, who surprisingly can share on with each other and be fine.

It’s a lot of pizza. Derek is kind of glad that Stiles talked him into a double oven when they were picking furniture out for the house.

Once all of the pizzas are in the oven, he goes back into the living room. “Be out of the house before the pack gets here,” Derek orders before going to his bathroom to shower.

“Which one was he growling at?” Dwight asks.

“Both of you,” Derek snaps back, knowing Peter will hear him from his room

“It seems as both of us are being kicked out, my favorite nephew. Whatever shall we do?” Derek can just see the sneer on Peter’s face.

It’s times like these where Derek wishes that any other family had survived and not these two.

*

“Are you coming to pack lunch?” Scott asks, walking into the bathroom while Stiles is showering

“ _Privacy, Scott_ ,” Stiles yells at him.

Scott doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest, and Stiles supposes there is a shower curtain so Scott can’t actually see anything. Whatever. They’re bros. It’s not like it really matters. “So you coming?”

“I did get a text about it,” Stiles muses. It was even specifically to him. Not just a group one.

 ** _There’s a pepperoni, sausage, and bacon, extra bacon pizza for you. If you want to come. As a thank you for the cake. It was good. Thanks. So there’s a pizza for you_**.

And it was so cute and stilted that Stiles doesn’t know if he can say no.

“He has now sent me three texts asking if you’re coming,” Scott tells him. “Each one is getting more and more desperate. Bro, please put him out of his Stiles-pining misery.”

Stiles washes the soap off his body, turns off the shower, and grabs a towel that Scott holds out for him because they’re the perfect bros. “Yeah, fine I’ll go. If you and Isaac don’t eat all of the cake.”

“There’s only one. How can you expect us not to?” Scott whines.

Stiles rolls his eyes and steps out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. “Maybe I’ll go to Derek’s early and bake more things there since I can’t trust you and Isaac not to sneak half of whatever dessert I made.”

“I’m sure Derek would _love_ that.” Scott’s eyebrows waggle, and it’s really not a good look for him.

“Whatever.” Stiles goes into room, quickly changing and then grabbing his wallet and keys so he can drive himself to Derek’s. Derek already has all the ingredients Stiles will need and the tools because Stiles is the one who stocked the kitchen. He may or may not have made the Hale kitchen into his dream kitchen. It was a beautiful kitchen really.

It has the granite counter tops Stiles has always wanted, double oven because there’s a lot of betas who eat more than they should be able to and a human who can eat his weight in really anything. A counter top stove that has _eight_ burners and it’s beautiful. A huge island with plenty of room to prepare anything he wants or for the betas to sit at the breakfast bar to watch Derek or Stiles cook and comment on the domesticity of it.

Okay maybe that wasn’t his favorite part. But it would be nice if maybe Stiles and Derek _were_ together, but Stiles shakes that thought right out of his head.

The fridge is bigger than Stiles has ever seen and always has room for whatever he needs to chill if he is baking and always has the pack’s favorite drinks. Ginger Ale for Lydia. Dr. Pepper for Isaac, Stiles, and Allison. Coke for Scott. Pepsi for the rest who also give Scott shit for liking Coke because _gross_. Derek doesn’t drink soda, though. He doesn’t like the carbonation.

One time he took a drink of Stiles’ drink because it was in front of him, and his face adorably scrunched up at the carbonation of the soda, which he then bitched at Stiles for, but the younger man couldn’t stop smiling fondly at the alpha who was a lot more adorable than any grown man had a right to be.

No, but Derek likes lemonade. He’s very picky about it too. It has to be the perfect combination of slightly sweet and sour. He also growled at anyone who tried to make lemonade except for Stiles because one day, Stiles sat with Derek and measured everything out, making sure he made the perfect recipe for Derek’s taste.

Speaking of which, Stiles should pick up some strawberries on the way there so they can work on strawberry lemonade or maybe even mango lemonade. Those are Stiles’ favorite. He wonders if Derek would experiment with him.

And maybe he’s putting in way too much thought to Derek’s tastes and wow. He knows Derek’s tastes as well as he knows Scott’s and if that’s not creepy, Stiles isn’t sure what is at this point.

But this is coming from the man who was constantly harassed by a werewolf stalking his window. So maybe they're equally creepy in their relationship. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come harass me at my tumblr and make me write this, yeah? You can find me at defenselesswriter.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles cooks in Derek's kitchen. Words are said. Things happen. It's great. Domestic even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I fulfilled my promise!!! Two chapters in one day.

There’s a familiar car pulling into the driveway. One that Derek shouldn’t recognize so quickly, but it’s so unique that he does. It’s Stiles’ jeep, and it’s such a hopeful sound to him.

He meets Stiles on the porch, the human handling many bags of groceries with a small smile.

“Hey,” Stiles greets, giving Derek half of the groceries.

“What are these for?” Derek asks.

Stiles walks right in, not bothering to answer Derek’s question. He places everything on the island, sniffs experimentally at the air and grins. “Mmm pizza. You make the best pizza.”

Nothing in Derek flutters at that. _Nothing_. “What are these?” he asks, placing the rest of the bags on the counter.

“I wasn’t sure what fruits you had,” Stiles informs him, pulling everything out of the bags. There are a lot of strawberries. _A lot_.

“Strawberries?” Derek raises an eyebrow at him.

Stiles just nods, keeping his focus on unpacking the groceries and fuck it’s really domestic. “Remember when we found the perfect lemonade recipe for you?”

“Yeah, and we’re out since you haven’t been here for a while,” Derek admits in a mumble.

Stiles beams at him. “I’ll make more today.” He gestures to the other bags that have nothing but lemons. “I wanted to do the same with maybe strawberry lemonade. It’s my favorite kind and I thought you might like it too.”

“Strawberries are my favorite fruit,” Derek mumbles, feeling his neck and cheeks heat up.

When he dares to look up at Stiles, the human has a soft, fond smile that he’s only ever seen when they’re alone. “Yeah, I know,” Stiles admits softly. Then he shakes his head and gets back to work. “I was also gonna bake some dessert for the pack for after lunch. It can cook after the pizzas are done and then they should be ready once everyone is done eating.”

Derek shouldn’t like how much Stiles works to take care of his pack. “Don’t you have homework?” he asks instead of showing his appreciation. This is what alphas look for in mates, a mate that will help take care of the pack.

Stiles glares at him. “If you don’t want me here, just tell me, Derek,” he snaps, stepping away from the counter.

“That’s not it,” Derek manages to get out; he’s trying so hard to use his words with Stiles, but he doesn’t know how to. “I, uh…appreciate all you do for the pack. I just don’t want you to think you have to do this.”

Stiles just barks out a laugh at that. “Don’t hurt yourself, big guy.” He slaps Derek on the shoulder, but then leaves his hand there as he looks into Derek’s eyes. “Thanks for saying that, though. I kinda needed it. But I don’t feel like I have to do this. I just really like baking and why not bake for the pack of werewolves that eat like wolves?” Then his hand slides away, but Derek can still feel the phantom touch of it, misses it already.

He doesn’t think he can say anything else, so he just sits on the counter, watching Stiles grab all his supplies, and these kinds of days are his favorite. Stiles keeps an idle chatter about his classes, what shenanigans Isaac and Scott get up to at home. It’s comfortable and just them, and Derek loves these days the most.

*

Stiles can’t ignore the way Derek is staring at him. He starts rambling about school and his roommates to keep himself from blushing. At one point he meets Derek’s gaze and stops in the middle sentence to just stare into the werewolf’s magically colored eyes. Stiles missed this. “Anyway,” he coughs, looking back down at the bowl of angel food cake he’s mixing up, “I should be done with this year soon. I should get a job this summer. I need to find new roommates. Scott’s moving in with Allison and Isaac said he was going to move in here.”

“It is the pack house,” Derek comments. “There are rooms for everyone in the pack.”

Stiles looks up at him, surprised at the comment. It’s like Derek’s hinting at something. “I’m pack?” It’s not supposed to be a question, but he wants to make sure.

Derek nods. “You’re pack. There’s a room for you. Yours and Scott’s are the only ones empty. You could….you could move in here at the end of your lease. You wouldn’t have to pay rent.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at him, searching for something. “You’re offering for me to move in,” he says dryly. “It’s because you want my lemonade all the time, isn’t it?”

Derek blushes and ducks his head. When Stiles first met him, he didn’t think the werewolf was capable of blushing, but he just had to look closer. The blush on his cheeks isn’t very clear because of the beard, but the tips of his ears turn pink and the back of his neck.

“I can’t make it like you can,” Derek admits softly.

Stiles doesn’t respond and is quiet for a while as he cuts up the strawberries and lemons. He gets the juicer for the lemonades and the blender to puree the strawberries. While the juicer does its thing, he gets out the sugar and a pitcher for the lemonade. He puts the lemon juice in, fills it with water but less than usual so he can fit the strawberries in it. He adds half of the normal amount of sugar he puts in, then purees the strawberries before pouring them into the pitcher. He mixes it all together and gets a cup with ice. He pours a little bit into it and walks over to Derek.

He doesn’t know how exactly he got there, but he’s standing in between Derek’s legs, offering him a cup of strawberry lemonade. “Try it,” Stiles urges, voice quiet. Then he’s lifting the cup to Derek’s lips and the werewolf tips his head back to drink what’s in the glass.

Stiles doesn’t remember putting the glass down, but he must have because it’s not in his hands anymore. His hands are on Derek’s thighs, staring at his lips, wet with the lemonade. He drags his eyes up to Derek’s, trying to focus. “Was it good?”

*

Derek isn’t sure how he missed it, but in the next second the betas are bustling through the door.

“I smell pizza!” Isaac exclaims, excitedly.

“Oh would you look at that,” Erica coos. “Mommy and Daddy made up.”

Stiles jumps back at that, glaring at the blonde. “Mommy and Daddy?” he asks.

Isaac shrugs as he jumps up on the counter as Derek slides off. “Watching you two fight is like kids watching their parents fight.”

“I’m the mom, aren’t I?” Stiles sighs, giving up and going back to mixing his cake, putting it in the cake pan then into the fridge.

“Obviously,” Jackson comments dryly, eyeing the cake. “You made cake. I don’t smell sex. Did you guys actually make up?”

“Or just make out?” Erica asks, waggling her eyebrows.

Stiles groans as Derek flashes his red eyes. “Enough. Out of the kitchen.”

“How come Stiles doesn’t have to leave?” Isaac complains.

“Because Stiles is Derek’s favorite,” Boyd comforts him, ushering the blonde boy and girl out of the kitchen. Jackson leaves without a word, and Lydia gives them a calculating look as she leaves and then a smirk.

Stiles collapses against Derek, head hung on the alpha’s shoulder. “Our lives,” he moans.

Derek isn’t sure what to do. They’ve hugged before. It’s not that they aren’t physical with each other, but never so intimately. They never hug for no reason. It’s either a goodbye one or a glad-you-made-it-out-alive hug. Derek doesn’t know what to do with a comforting hug. He settles for placing a hand on Stiles’ waist and the other rubbing his back, hopefully comforting.

“The lemonade was perfect,” Derek says because he isn’t sure what else to say.

Stiles snorts into his shoulder, stepping even closer and wrapping his arms around Derek. Then he leans back, looking up at the older man. “Why aren’t we together?” he blurts out, then his eyes widen and a blush creeps over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to…Fuck.”

Derek tunes out the laughter from his betas, tightening his grip on Stiles. “It’s a good question,” Derek tells him.

Stiles jerks in surprise. “It is? Does that mean…you’re into me?”

Derek grimaces at the wording but nods. “I guess, yeah. Dwight and Peter keep pestering me about it.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but his face shows he’s taking his time to think through this information. Then he nods to himself and disentangles from Derek’s arms that suddenly feel empty without the human.

He goes back to cutting lemons and strawberries, making another batch of strawberry lemonade for the rest of the pack. He puts all of his attention into it, staying silent, so there’s no mindless chatter for Derek to listen to. Derek realizes that maybe that’s only something they do when they’re alone.

The timer for the pizzas go off, so Derek works to pull those out and then slicing the pizza while Scott and Allison walk through the door, greeting the pack. Once Derek is rinsing off the pizza slicer, the betas walk in, grabbing plates for pizza, napkins and whatever drinks they want.

“Did you bring movies, Stiles?” Erica asks hopefully.

Stiles nods distractedly as he mixes the lemonade together, his focus never faltering. “Lord of the Rings.”

Isaac looks excited by the prospect and Lydia looks interested by the idea while the rest of the pack don’t react.

The pack gets their pizza and files into the living room. Stiles is still mindlessly mixing the lemonade and still hasn’t touched his pizza, so Derek puts as much pizza that will fit on the plate for him and getting one for himself. He grabs a can of Dr. Pepper and a glass of lemonade, following the pack into the living room.

Jackson and Lydia are on the loveseat. Allison and Scott are squished in the arm chair while Boyd, Isaac, and Erica are lounging on one of the couches, all of them leaving the other couch for Stiles and Derek like they usually do. Derek places the plates and drinks on the coffee table and goes to pull Stiles from his mysterious trance.

*

It does not compute. It doesn’t. Derek is into Stiles. He is. That wasn’t a lie. Derek doesn’t lie, not to Stiles he doesn’t. And just wow. He can’t grasp it. He really can’t. Someone that looks like Derek and is as powerful, someone who could literally have anyone they want is interested in _Stiles_.

There’s a hand resting in between his shoulder blades, and he jumps out of his thoughts, looking over at Derek. “Wha?” he blinks, confusedly.

“The pack are all in the living room waiting for the movie. Do you want to set it up?” Derek’s voice is soft, his eyes are fond, and how did Stiles never see this before.

“I need to get my…” he frowns when he sees half his pizza gone. “Did Scott break into my pizza? That bastard, I’ll fucking castrate him.”

“I took it,” Derek informs him. “Your food and Dr. Pepper are in the living room, waiting for you. Everyone’s waiting for you. You okay?”

Stiles nods dumbly and then puts the lemonade in the fridge and cake in the oven, setting the timer. He follows Derek to the tv, setting up the first movie and then staring at the couch that is empty aside from Derek and that’s always been their couch. Why did the betas always leave them that couch?

“Did everyone know Derek was into me before I did?” Stiles asks.

Scott chokes. Erica cackles. Lydia gives him a judgmental look. Isaac looks down. Boyd doesn’t look like it affected him, and it’s Jackson who finally responds with, “Well _duh_.”

Stiles nods to himself and then sits next to Derek, propping his feet against the coffee table once his plate is in his lap. He starts shoveling pizza in his mouth, ignoring the looks he’s getting from Derek.

The alpha is tense as Stiles casually eats the pizza and sips at his soda. Stiles subtly tries to scoot himself closer and closer to Derek until their sides are pressed together. Derek relaxes slightly, but he isn’t even close to normal, so Stiles takes a deep breath and just fucking goes for it.

“Thanks for lunch,” he whispers, leaning over and pressing his lips against a stubbled jaw then sits back.

Derek completely relaxes into the couch and starts eating his pizza. Mission accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh the romance is starting??? and so may the plot????? Oh no!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be something fun and short and sweet where Derek gets jealous then throws Stiles up against the wall and makes out with him. They live happily ever after. The end. And then this turned out to be over 10k. wtf

It may be kind of perfect. Okay, it is. He’ll let himself have this one. Stiles is pressed against his side, head on Derek’s shoulder. His pack is together. They’re happy. For once, they’re happy.

Well, Stiles is sleeping. Once the human is full of food and comfortable, he falls asleep. He can fall asleep anywhere. He face nuzzles against Derek’s shoulder, mumbling softly, “Mmm Derek pillow nice.”

Erica snorts once, and Derek hides his smile in Stiles’ hair. He may be placing too much hope in it, but he thinks he and Stiles might go somewhere for once. They might be more than maybe friends. Derek may actually feel like he deserves this.

Everything is finally settled. Everything is good.

Which of course is when Dwight and Peter walk in, laughing loudly, forcing Stiles awake and making everyone look over at them annoyed.

Then it’s the scent that hits everyone. The pack freezes, the betas trying to control themselves, only sensing Derek’s panic. Allison and Lydia prepare themselves because they sense the tension in the room.

Stiles sits up, staring at Derek, confused and trying to blink away sleepiness. Peter and Dwight stop, raising eyebrows at the pack.

“What is it, little brother?” Dwight asks, a knowing smile on his face.

“Where did you guys go?” Derek demands.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly, reaching for his hand.

The alpha pulls his hand away, glaring at his brother. He knows that smell. It’s gone now; he doesn’t know how it’s gone. He didn’t imagine it. He couldn’t have. That smell. It was a mixture of gun powder, wolfsbane, and something else. A mixture of flowers and citrus he hadn’t smelled in over three years. He couldn’t place it, and now it’s gone. It’s gone, and he can’t get it back.

“Just out to lunch and then sightseeing,” Dwight answers calmly, eyeing Stiles’ hand with a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in Beacon Hills, you know. That sheriff, though. He seems to be doing quite the job.”

Stiles stiffens at that, looking back at Derek’s brother. Derek can see the tense lines of his shoulder and knows that Stiles heard the threat in Dwight’s voice that no one else heard. Scott is staring at his best friend confusedly. The rest of the pack is staring at Derek in the same way.

“What? No welcome home?” Peter asks, a smirk curling his lips as his eyes dart to Lydia. Derek’s do the same, and she’s glaring fiercely at the undead werewolf, challengingly even.

“I have homework,” Stiles mumbles, standing up and grabbing his shoes clumsily. “I need to get back home.” He sends a look over at Derek then dashes out of the house as fast as he can.

Derek tries to hide his growl as he stands up and starts cleaning up the living room. “Dwight, you have overstayed your welcome,” he grits out. “When are you leaving?”

Dwight arches an eyebrow. “Well, I see how it is. I’ll be gone tomorrow.” Then he goes right up the stairs into the guest room Derek knows he has been staying in.

When Derek glares over at Peter, his uncle is just smiling and goes back outside to disappear for days like he does. The growl does come out this time, which makes the rest of the pack get up and start helping out. They’re all silent as they go until finally Lydia speaks up.

“I don’t trust either of them,” she informs the room. “I vote for killing Peter.”

Derek sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “They’re up to something,” he admits. “I don’t know what, but I’ll figured it out.”

“Derek,” Scott says warningly. “You can’t do this alone. If you don’t want to talk to us about this, at least talk to Stiles. You know he will listen. In fact, I think he might need you to talk to him right now.” Scott looks meaningfully at the door. “We can hold down the fort.”

Everyone nods their agreement, all looking at Derek expectantly. “Call me if you need anything,” Derek instructs them as he dashes through the front door.

*

Stiles didn’t know what he was thinking. Don’t trust the Hales. Well, Derek is okay, but his family that’s actually alive…they’re an entirely different story. Why are they so beyond creepy and so charming at first? Stiles flirted with Dwight. Mainly because of the way he looked. Wait, no that sounds wrong. It’s because he looked like Derek. Stiles likes _Derek_.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s sitting in his apartment on the floor of the kitchen, staring at the cabinets. The Hales just don’t make sense to him. He’s so confused and lost that he isn’t even baking. He’s just staring at the cabinets because apparently they’ve become very interesting very recently.

Dwight threatened his dad. _His dad_. Fuck. Derek reacted badly to him when he walked in, and why? What made Derek react like that? Stiles has to figure it out all; he always does, but he has to protect his dad from whatever threat Dwight poses, which means Stiles has to talk to Derek and not hide out in his kitchen.

So he gets off the floor and stomps to his door. Upon opening it, he sees Derek with his fist in the air, looking slightly surprised to see Stiles. “Uh, you knew I was coming?” Derek asks.

Stiles shakes his head slowly. “I was about to come see you. Thanks for making it easy, I guess?” He steps back, gesturing for Derek to walk in, and suddenly, he’s not sure how to act around Derek, the man who likes him and the man he likes. Wait. What?

“So why were you coming to see me?” Derek asks, looking around awkwardly until deciding to sit at the breakfast bar.

Stiles remains standing; he has done enough sitting for today. “We need to figure out what’s going on with Dwight and Peter. I can’t just let go anything that sounds vaguely like a threat against my dad even if it is your brother, Der.”

Derek nods almost encouragingly. Weird. “I agree. They’re up to something. I don’t know what, but I don’t trust them. No one smart trusts Peter, and Dwight has always been the odd one out.”

“Because he’s human?” Stiles asks, close to defending the man who just threatened his dad. But humans aren’t weak, and he’s tired of being surrounded by creatures of the night that are so much stronger than him. Not fair.

“No, because he never seemed to be very accepting of the werewolf side of our family,” Derek quickly answers. “There’s nothing wrong with being human.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a werewolf,” Stiles mumbles, and Derek looks up at him, slightly surprised. “Oh, come on. You didn’t think I would think badly of you for that, did you?”

Derek looks to the side and shrugs. “It’s what I’m used to.” Then he looks back up at Stiles, his face hopeful. “So if there were any way I could be human, you wouldn’t want me to?”

Stiles immediately shakes his head, taking a step closer and then another step and another until he’s standing between Derek’s legs. He frames the werewolf’s face in his hands and looks down at him fondly. “No, of course not. I like you exactly the way you are. Everything about you. Even when you growl at me when I shove my cold toes underneath your leg because I know you secretly love it.”

And Stiles didn’t think this could ever happen to him. Whatever this is with Derek. He’s allowed to touch Derek. The werewolf doesn’t growl or flash his eyes whenever Stiles enters his personal space because Derek _wants_ him in his personal space. So Stiles leans down, pressing their foreheads together.

“Alright let’s figure out what your relatives are up to,” Stiles whispers to him.

“That wasn’t exactly what I expected you to say,” Derek mumbles, sounding slightly disappointed.

Stiles tries not to smile as he ducks in and gives Derek a quick kiss before jumping away from him, giving the alpha a cheeky smile. “You’ll never be able to expect my moves. Now come on. Off to your house. All my research stuff is there.”

Derek narrows his eyes at the other man and huffs as he stands up. “Meet me there. I’m not driving your ass home in the middle of the night.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I practically live there anyway. I would just spend the night. Maybe even get my scent _all_ over your bed.” He winks for a more dramatic effect. Derek just stomps out of the apartment.

There are actually a few things he needs to grab before he heads over to –

And then for some reason the world is black. Huh.

*

It doesn’t take this long to get to his house from Stiles’ apartment. He would know. Not only did he get home from said apartment an hour ago, but he has made the drive plenty of times. So where the hell is Stiles?

Derek checks his phone for the fifth time…that minute. Still nothing from Stiles. He’s still hoping that the man will waltz through the door, probably with food and a wild explanation of why he’s late that would involve dramatic details of an old lady having it out for him by taking at least _I swear to god it was actually fifteen minutes_ to push her cart in the parking lot directly behind his jeep. Derek has heard these stories before. There are plenty of them, but Stiles would’ve told him if he was going to the store or picking food up on the way.

So something has to be wrong.

Obviously the first thing he does is _not panic he’s the alpha he can’t be panicking_. He calls Scott.

“I purposefully got everyone out of your house so you and Stiles could sex it up,” Scott answers, sounding annoyed. “I already made sure no one would surprise you two for another two days at least. _What do you want_?”

“Stiles isn’t here,” Derek gets out; he’s not sure how much he can actually talk right now without growling incessantly. “He’s supposed to be here _for research_ , but he’s not.”

“You know Stiles. He’s always late.” It takes Scott a little bit on the uptake sometimes as he remembers Stiles complaining about.

“No, Scott,” Derek growls. “He’s over an hour later. He should be here by now even if he stopped. He’s missing. I’ve called him three times, and he hasn’t answered. When is the last time Stiles didn’t answer his phone?”

“When he was sixteen, before I turned into a werewolf,” Scott whispers, and Derek can hear the shuffling of Scott hurrying to put on clothes and shoes. “Meet me at the apartment.”

“Where were you?” Derek asks.

“I’m at Allison’s,” Scott tells him breathlessly like he’s running around and rushing which he should be. This is his best friend that’s missing. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t sex it up while I was in the apartment.”

Derek sighs, hanging up the phone and should maybe thank his pack for trying to give them space, but he can’t even think about that right now. He has a priority of finding Stiles and making sure he’s safe.

It’s ten minutes later that he is standing outside Stiles’ apartment, waiting for Scott to let him in. The smell hits him harder than Scott ever has. _Fuck_. Scott comes running up seconds later, his face scrunched up with the smell.

“I don’t recognize it aside from the wolfsbane, do you?” Scott asks, looking worried.

Derek nods once. “Call the rest of the pack.”

“You know the smell?” Scott asks, getting out his phone and typing out a text.

Derek doesn’t want to admit, doesn’t even want to think it’s possible, but he knows this smell. He could never forget it. Not when it had such a heavy hand in killing his family. Roses and oranges mixed with the distinct deadliness of wolsbane. He smelled it earlier when Dwight and Peter walked in. The smell still haunts his nightmares and can only mean one thing.

Kate is alive.

And she has Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if she's alive in canon, she can be alive in here too. Whatevs. I do what I want.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoa. Kate has Stiles?? What's gonna happen now? Obviously Stiles and Kate are gonna fall in love and ride off into the sunset. Wait...that's wrong. That's sooo wrong. Maybe the pack will save Stiles? That sounds like a thing that could happen!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy it's the last chapter. I finally finished it. Wooo!!!

His head hurts. Like whoa it really fucking hurts. Is he hungover? He doesn’t remember getting drunk, but if his head hurts this badly he’s just proud he can remember his own name. He can remember his own name, right?

Right. He remembers. No worries there except that his head is exploding, and he’s pretty sure he was supposed to wake up on Derek’s couch today, not sitting upright in an uncomfortable chair and hey, are his hands tied behind his back? He didn’t think Derek would be this kinky so quickly.

Then he remembers. Or not exactly. He remembers not making it to Derek’s house.

His eyes blink open, seeing a room where there are shelves covering every single wall of weapons. He doesn’t know how to react, but there’s Derek smiling at him now. Wait a second. That’s not Derek’s smile, especially not his cute little smile that only Stiles has seen.

Nope. That’s Dwight.

“Hey, Dwight,” Stiles says, his voice hoarse. “While this is fun, I’m pretty sure your brother already called dibs on me.”

“I’m still impressed you can tell up apart so easily,” Dwight tells him, stepping closer. “And I never heard him call dibs.”

“Well we kissed,” Stiles informs him with a nod. “It’s as official as it’s gonna get between us.”

Dwight’s eyes narrow darkly, and Stiles suddenly sees him in a new light. He suspected it, okay? He suspected Dwight was evil, but the way the man is standing in front of him now, eyes small and a dark smirk curled on his lips, he definitely looks the part of evil.

“You look so much like Peter right now,” Stiles blurts out. “With the whole evil, arrogance thing going on.”

Dwight laughs at that. “Peter is no longer a problem.”

Stiles’ eyes widen at that. “Did you kill Peter? Lydia’s gonna be so pissed at you. She’s been waiting to do that for _years_.”

“Yes, Peter is dead. He deserved it.” And Stiles isn’t going to argue Dwight’s point on that. “As does my dear brother and every one of his stupid pack, including you, Stiles. Why would you associate with those mutts?” And Stiles is definitely going to argue Dwight’s point on this.

“Those _mutts_?” Stiles spits out. “Most of your family were – ”

“ _Monsters_ ,” Dwight finishes for him. “They were monsters and they all deserved to die exactly the way they did.”

“You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” Stiles asks, suddenly coming to the realization.

Dwight’s smile is definitely something out of a horror film. “We both are.”

And before Stiles can even start to guess at who makes up that infamous “we”, someone even more infamous walks in the room.

“I don’t think we’ve ever officially met, Stiles,” the woman greets, an air of arrogance surrounding her words and emanating from her person. Despite never being introduced, they’re both very familiar with each other. “I’m Kate. It’s so nice to meet you.”

*

“He’s just bait,” Lydia informs him.

Derek’s eyes flash crimson at her, and he doesn’t even bother controlling it anymore. “ _I know_ he’s just bait, but that doesn’t mean they won’t kill him. Kate is ruthless. She killed my entire family including children. Don’t think for a second she’s not capable of killing Stiles because she is.”

Lydia looks at him hard and then looks down, submitting. She cares for the pack; Derek knows it even if she tries to keep up a cold exterior most of the time.

“So how do we find him?” Scott asks.

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“If my dad knew she was alive, he would’ve told you,” Allison comments.

Derek nods because he knows it’s true. “Allison, can you think of anywhere she used to take you?”

Allison shakes her head. “Our hideout was your cellar as you obviously know. She didn’t take me anywhere else except for…” Her face lights up like she just remembered it. “It was this old storage place my family used to have before we moved back to Beacon Hills. That’s where she would show me all the different weapons. I don’t know if she’d go back to it.”

“It’s the only lead we have,” Derek finishes. “Can you remember where it is?”

“Of course.” Allison’s face harden into determination while Scott smiles at her with pride.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Derek asks, looking at all his betas.

“What if we’re not willing to risk our lives for Stilinski?” Jackson asks.

Lydia smacks him hard on the chest, hissing out his name.

Derek turns his gaze on his newest, least loyal beta. “Are you saying Stiles isn’t pack?”

Jackson shakes his head. “Of course he is. We all know how big of a bitch fit he threw when he thought he wasn’t.”

“So if you were the one we were rescuing and Stiles didn’t want to help, you wouldn’t feel at all offended or betrayed?” Scott asks him, his eyes flashing yellow at the beta.

“Stiles, who has always tried to help _all_ of us despite the fact that every single wereolf in this room with the exception of Boyd has at one point caused him harm?” Erica asks, also ganging up on the other beta.

“You really want us to leave Stiles behind just because he annoys you despite him trying to keep all of us happy?” Boyd asks, stepping in with the others. Derek watches with pride as his betas stand up for their human.

“Stiles, who makes the best cakes known to man?” Isaac asks, and it may be a joke from Isaac, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sticking up for Stiles as much as the other betas are.

Lydia looks over at Jackson smugly. “And how many reasons do you think they could come up with to save your unworthy ass?” she asks her boyfriend.

Jackson pales at that and then bares his neck in submission.

“Now, if there are no more delays, let’s go get my best friend,” Scott commands, looking to Derek for confirmation. The alpha nods and they all split into cars and follow Allison’s car.

*

Stiles wants to thrash around, hit something, and yell out, but he remains calm. He has to. Instead of lashing out, he just watches Kate as she walks around the room.

“Peter thought he killed me,” Kate laughs, flicking her hair back so Stiles can see the jagged scar across her neck. “Dwight found me. We planned the fire together.”

Stiles can’t stay quiet on that one. “You help plan the fire that killed your family?” Stiles yells at Dwight, incredulous that anyone could want to kill their family and plan to do so. He just can’t even get his mind around that. Who would do that?

The answer is that Dwight would.

“They’re monsters, Stiles. I told you. How many times has Scott turned against you?” Dwight’s eyebrows raise in a way that Derek’s have so many time. The eyebrows just exude judgment, but this isn’t Derek, not even close.

“He is still my brother. We’re there for each other no matter what.”

“And how many times have you almost died since Scott turned?” Kate asks with an innocently sweet voice. “Those adorable brown eyes can only work for so long, Stiles. And Derek may be hot, but that’s all he is, just a hot body. Dwight got all the brains.”

“Then Derek got all the human emotions like compassion and actually caring about your family,” Stiles spits out.

Kate tsks at him and looks disappointed for some reason. “I was hoping we could spare you. Your cleverness would definitely be put to good use as well as all of your information on how packs work, but we have Dwight for that.”

“You actually expected me to turn into a hunter?” Stiles asks, shocked. Does he seem like he could just betray his friends like that?

Kate sighs. “I hoped that I wouldn’t have to kill you. You could be so useful, Stiles.” She pulls a knife out from her boot. “But if I can’t persuade you then…”

“Then what, Kate?” a new voice asks, and Stiles knows that voice. He looks up, smiling widely at Allison leaning against the doorway. “You’re gonna kill one of my friends, Aunt Kate? You didn’t even tell me you were alive.” Allison’s face is downturned in sadness, pouting almost.

“You’re a sympathizer,” Kate answers and then points at Stiles. “As is your friend. You just soil the Argent name.”

Allison shakes her head. “You did that enough for us, thank you.” Then she pulls out her own knife, holding it casually in her hand like it’s something innocent like a water bottle. Stiles knows that if Allison is here, Scott isn’t far behind, which means the whole pack is probably here. To save Stiles.

But Kate doesn’t look disappointed. In fact, she looks _happy_.

“It’s a trap!” Stiles yells, hoping the wolves can hear him. “I don’t know what she has planned, but I’m just bait.”

Allison looks alarmed, but then smiles at Stiles. “Of course you’re just bait, Stiles. Do you think Derek would be so quick to jump into a trap for anyone else?”

That’s when Stiles hears the snarling and sees a face with red eyes, sideburns and no eyebrows.

*

All Derek can really think about is that there has been a threat against his mate and that his mate is in danger. A constant stream of those words run through his head until he sees him. Stiles. Unharmed. But he is in the same room as Kate and absolutely nothing can keep him in control right now, can anchor him. Even seeing his last living relative, who is also a danger to his mate.

“And the alpha has arrived,” Kate announce with a sick laugh, the sound sharper than the knife in her hand. Derek can’t control what he does next as he launches himself at her. The knife digs in deep.

“Derek!” Stiles cries out.

The alpha doesn’t let it phase him even though he can feel the way too familiar burn of wolfsbane in the wound, can feel the poison pump through his vein, but it doesn’t matter. All he can see is Kate’s cocky face and knows all he wants is to claw his way through it. So he does. He can feels his claws sink into her skin, hear her scream. He doesn’t know what else he does until she falls to the floor, her eyes unseeing and his body covered in her blood.

The fog over his mind clears, his fangs and claws retracting as he steps away from Kate’s body. He can barely breathe, but then he hears something soft, a voice.

“Derek,” Stiles says again, his voice quieter this time as he looks up at the alpha.

The man in question cuts through the ropes tying Stiles back and then the younger man launches himself at Derek in a very, _very_ different way than when Derek launched himself at Kate.

Stiles’ arms wrap around him, his face buried into the werewolf’s neck. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Of course you would ask that when you were the one kidnapped,” Derek huffs, wrapping his arms around the human, holding him close and ignoring the pain.

“I’m not the one who was just stabbed with a wolfsbane dipped knife,” Stiles whispers and then pulls himself away from Derek. He takes off one of his shoes, sticks his hand in it like he’s looking for something and then he pulls out his hand, holding a small baggy of a purple powder.

“Of course you have wolfsbane in your shoe,” Derek deadpans.

Stiles flashes him a smile. “When you run with wolves, you gotta have everything you need. They took my lighter, though.”

“I have one,” Allison calls out, tossing one to Stiles.

“Thanks,” he says but then looks over at the woman. “Where is everyone else? Where’s Dwight?”

“Dwight snuck out,” Allison answers first. “Tried to stop him, but I figured the others could handle it. They’re upstairs taking care of the other hunters.”

“They’re not handling as well as they need to,” Derek tells them, hearing the struggles from upstairs. “Go help them, Allison. We’re okay down here.”

Stiles watches her go before he pours out the powder onto the floor, lighting it on fire. “Would you like to do the honors?” Stiles asks, lifting an eyebrow at Derek.

The alpha pulls his shirt over his head, not missing the way Stiles’ eyes travel down his bare torso. Derek tries not to smirk, but he does anyway despite the circumstances. He grabs the burnt powder and pushes it into his wound. The pain shoots through him, but Stiles grips his shoulders and whispers words through it all until the pain dies.

They’re both breathing heavily at the end and staring into each other’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Stiles finally says. “For sending the Calvary after me.”

Derek nods, resting his forehead against his mate’s. “Thanks for always being prepared.”

“I was a boy scout,” Stiles jokes.

“There is no way I would ever believe that,” Derek whispers.

Stiles inhales sharply. “Hey,” he says, offended.

Derek huffs out a laugh before pulling the man into his lap and kissing him. Stiles’ arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses back fiercely, pressing his lips against Derek’s almost bruising.

Then he pulls back, licking his lips, which is not something Derek tracks with his eyes. “So making out in a basement full of weapons and the woman who killed your family lying dead on the floor is just a little weird. Can we maybe go home and finish this?”

Derek pauses a moment to hear what’s going on upstairs, and there are no more sounds of fighting, so he nods, pulling Stiles up so he is standing with him.

Then Derek pauses again when they’re on the stairs. “Home?”

Stiles turns around to look at him and nods, looking at Derek like he’s crazy. “Yeah, home. I distinctly remember a certain sour wolf inviting me to move in with him.”

Derek can feel himself smile wider than he has in years. “Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos. I'm so glad this is finally done as much I loved writing it, it needed to end. Now I can start another project which will be posted next Monday.
> 
> Oh and hey! Teen Wolf s4 premiere tonight! Who's excited? I'm excited. Come talk to me about it at defenselesswriter.tumblr.com it's a party there.


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